


on command

by thir13enth



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (if it wasn't already clear), F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pegging, domtara supremacy, straptara agenda 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:14:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28962999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: All firebenders are taught restraint. Katara decides to test his.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 71





	on command

**Author's Note:**

> thank you all for supporting my straptara agenda. you know who you are. 
> 
> you’ve waited long enough. and zuko certainly has as well.

Zuko feels Katara’s hot glare on his back. Then her voice cuts the silence in half.

“ _What did you say?_ ” she snaps.

All he hears after that is the crackle from the fireplace and the static fuzz in his mind as hot blood rises through his body. A smirk stretches over his lips, and he tucks it away as he slowly turns to face her again. 

“I _said_ ,” he repeats, “you didn’t seem to mind last night when I was _fucking_ you.”

Her eyes never leave his, watching him from the very corner of the couch, seated with her legs neatly crossed over one another. She sits there, glowering at him for his boyish defiance, but he thinks he can see the small gleam of her teeth as she bites her lip and the shadow over her leg grow long as her thighs press together.

She looks gorgeous in the firelight, seductive in the glow of the flickering flames. Hard for him to look away, especially when the neckline of her silk robe is lopsided, the point of her collar laying bare the center of her chest — his eyes stray to the line of her cleavage, the beginning swell of her right breast.

Her voice drops an octave. “Come here.”

He does. He saunters over to her, all the while feeling a familiar weight pooling between his legs. He hopes she notices, especially now that he’s standing close, his hips mere inches from her face.

She only briefly tilts her head up to look at him. 

“On your knees,” she says.

And so, he drops down to the hardwood floor, down to her eye level. Her hands settle over his shoulders, pulling him towards her. Her fingers run up the slope of his neck, thumbs hovering dangerously over the bob of his throat.

“All I’m asking is for the house to be just a little bit warmer — especially now that it’s the winter,” she says lowly, her thumbs pressing into his neck. Her eyes flick up to his, locking gazes. “Is that too much to ask?”

This time he doesn’t hold back his smirk. “And all I’m saying,” he says, corner of his mouth curling upwards, “is that you just need to take your mind off the cold and not let it bother you.” He transfers some chi to his palms as his hands grace her waist, one of them giving her breast a warm squeeze. “Unless… you need help with that?”

Her cheeks may have flushed a bit, breaking her intimidating façade, but before he sees it, she ducks her head into the crook of his neck, her lips over his skin. She exhales, waterbending icy drops over his skin.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she tells him coolly. “Because otherwise I’d have to punish you for such _impudence_.”

Her voice sends shivers down his spine, and he gets _that_ much harder.

“Does that mean I get a reward then?” He covertly swings his hips side to side, so that she may possibly feel his obvious tenting at her legs.

Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t. Regardless, she laughs, looking down at him through her lashes. “Hm,” she hums. “Something like that.”

He grins. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She studies his eyes for a long minute before asking, “Do you remember how I got a package earlier this week?”

He snorts. “Yeah, another one of your _nerd_ books.”

One of her eyebrows arches. “What made you think it was a book?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. It was rectangular and book-shaped and it was heavy.”

“Heavy?”

“Yeah, heav—”

And then it hits him.

Katara has talked about this for a _long_ time.

“ _Oh_ ,” he purrs. His hands pull her hips forward, his torso now between her knees and her body close. “I don’t realize you actually went ahead and ordered it.”

She grants him an impish smile. “Well, you know I get what I want.”

He does know. And honestly, he really should have known better.

Katara has always been a wildfire in bed, certainly more experimental than he will ever be. Zuko is rather content with a simple formulaic fuck, much more interested in the proceedings before and after. Katara, on the other hand, always seems to have another idea, and this particular one has been one she’s mentioned — cheekily when they were in the shower together or whimsically between sips of morning coffee — for a _while_.

Still, whenever she talked about it, her lips would press together shyly. He never thought she was _this_ serious about it all this time.

But damn, is he down for it.

“I think I found one that I like online so… _I got it_ ,” she says, almost breathlessly, as if relieved to get that off her chest.

To think that at some point this week when he thought she was hard at work, staring at her computer for hours on end… and she may have been ordering a sex toy?

“Well then,” he replies, squeezing her waist. “Let’s see it.”

Doesn’t take her much more coaxing. She stands up with a bounce, stepping around him and dancing around the coach. She opens the coat closet — and spirits, there it is, blatant on the top shelf. Zuko can’t believe he’s missed seeing it, especially when it’s labelled so bright and audaciously. There is _no_ question as to what it is.

She pulls it straight out of the box, clearly having already unpackaged it prior — and there it is, her strap in all its glory.

Black leather and gold buckles, but his eyes cannot veer from the very bright fuchsia cock that carries. He thinks he sees some sparkle in the color, and he definitely can see the ridges along its shaft.

“What do you think?” she asks him, tiptoeing back toward him. She dangles the harnesses just over his face — quite purposefully letting the tip of the cock caress his cheek.

He swallows thickly.

“It’s a strap, alright.”

It’s really all he can say about it at the moment.

As down for this as Zuko is, he can’t help but feel an edge of fear in his heart. The strap looks very large at eye level, and there’s a smirk on Katara’s face telling him that by the end of the night he’s going to be _absolutely wrecked_.

He stands slowly to his feet, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. He combs a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You wanna give it a go then?” he asks.

Her eyes sparkle, and she glows with a newfound drive. He can’t help but chuckle — her sudden pep contrasts deeply with her laziness just minutes ago, complaining about the cold with a mug of hot tea between her hands that she could barely find the energy to stir with a spoon, opting instead to whirl it around with her chi.

“Yes! Let’s,” she chirps, taking his hand. She practically drags him up the stairs to their bedroom, kicking the door wide open. She pulls him in, then practically shoves him onto their bed. Dramatically, he flops onto the mattress, letting his body weight bounce against the mattress.

“Someone’s excited,” he teases, lifting his head up.

“Hm,” she simply replies. She pushes the bedroom door closed with her hips, then sprints into bed to join him. She tackles him down with kisses, pinning his arms down over his head. Her bodyweight feels deliciously warm on top of him, and her hair curtains around his face, entrapping him in this space of only and solely Katara.

He loves it.

His hips inadvertently thrust upward, grinding into her body. If Katara isn’t already aware about his hardness, she is certainly very aware of it now, and she laughs, interrupting their kiss and smoothing her hand down his body. Her hand stops over his hips and he nearly groans out loud.

“What are you doing, Zuko?” she asks him, with lowered eyes and a husky voice. “It’s not _your_ time yet.”

She pushes the heel of her palm down against him, following the shadow of his cock, and he lets out a slow exhale. She laughs again, pressing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Her hand continues its journey up his body, slipping underneath his shirt and running up over his chest, bringing up the hem of his shirt with it.

The ambient air and her wandering fingers leave trails of goosebumps over his bare skin. He grimaces, as subtly as possible, but she sees the frown on his face, smirking.

“ _Now_ who’s the cold one, huh?” she mocks. And then in another quick motion, her other hand joins, pulling his shirt completely up and over his body.

His unruly hair falls over his face, and she leans forward, combing his long bangs back over his head.

“Your hair’s gotten so long,” she murmurs.

“You don’t seem to mind,” he replies, blowing an awkward unruly strand off his face.

She takes her other hand to gather that strand, then joins the other hand at the back of his head, pulling his hair in back into a ponytail.

“It’s cute,” she says, and falls forward to give him another kiss.

He receives her lips eagerly, letting his hands drop to his waistband to pull them down.

“Mmm, yes,” she agrees, feeling his effort. “Let’s get those off you.” Briefly, she casts her eyes downwards, and he follows her gaze.

Even looking down at it himself, he finds himself a little embarrassed. He’s already changed into his pajamas for the night, but even as thick as they are for the cold weather, they are certainly not discreet about showing _exactly how turned on he is_.

No time to waste then. He tucks in his knees, and quickly pulls the last of his clothing off his body.

He sees her subtlety survey his body — her eyes lingering over the muscles of his chest, the ridges of his hips — and he can’t help but gloats a little on the inside about it.

Even after all this time married, Katara still finds some need to be discreet about how goddamn attractive she finds him, and for the life of him, Zuko can’t figure out why she has never (and probably _will_ never) admit it out loud.

Her eyes suddenly snap back to his, zeroing in on him.

Ah. Back to business.

Spirits, she’s hot.

“Turn around,” she demands.

He does.

Because whatever Katara tells him to do, he will _fucking do_.

He flips over onto his stomach, resting his face onto his forearms. He hears clothing — _her_ clothing — rustle behind him, anticipation growing deep in his stomach. She brushes away the locks of hair over his neck, and she presses her lips to the back of his neck. He feels the rest of her body fall languidly over him, her breasts pressing into his back — the hard pebbles of her nipples over his skin, a sensation almost easy to miss while she tucks another kiss under his jaw.

She lifts from his body then, and he already misses her body as he feels cold air rushing into the space between them. He hears clinking to the right of him — that could only be one thing. The mattress under him gives way from one side to the other, probably her putting on the strap and fitting it over herself.

“You can turn around now,” she says.

He does.

Katara is on her knees, her hands folded over her chest proudly — looking incredibly tall from his angle. He gazes downward to see the strap, which hangs out at her hips. She wears nothing but a confident smile and the fuchsia strap, looking incredibly good.

“What do you think?” she asks.

And what else can he say but exactly what’s on his mind?

“You look hot,” he replies, now flopping completely onto his back now that he’s had a good look at her.

Her smile grows wider. “I know,” she replies, nudging closer to him. “I can tell,” she adds, giving a playful nudge to his cock.

He chuckles, but his humor soon simmers as she runs her hands over the tops of his thighs, turning his laughter into a quiet bite of his lip.

Her eyes flicker back up to him. “Are you nervous?” she asks.

He blinks, the words clinging heavily on his throat. “Yes,” he says, honestly. “But I want to do this.”

“Yeah?” she asks again.

He nods once, assured. “Yes,” he replies.

“Good,” she says. “Me too.”

She reaches to the side, grabbing the lubricant on the mattress — was that always there? (He is as ever non-perceptive as he seems to be, he realizes.) She squeezes the bottle over her fingers. He sees the clear gel swirl in her palm, warming it up.

Always better with water-based lubricant, he’s realized long ago — especially with a waterbending partner.

“By the way,” she adds, with a coy smile, “the strap apparently has some built-in channels within it. Filled with vicious liquid that we can _bend_.”

“Huh,” he replies. He’s not sure exactly what this implies, but he imagines he’ll find out soon enough.

She simply chuckles at his non-descript reply, spreading the lubricant a little more evenly over her fingers. She reaches down, positioning her hand over him, then looks back up at him.

“Ready?” she asks.

He nods, affirming, “Yeah.” He pulls up his knees, letting his feet flat on the bed.

At this, she smiles and redirects her attention down to her hand. She runs over fingers over him, coating lubricant over his entrance. Zuko closes his eyes, focusing on relaxing as the tip of her fingers circle, with every sweep dipping further and further in. Finally, he lets out a big exhale, and she takes the cue, gliding in with one easy motion.

“Fuck, _Katara_ ,” he sighs. He repositions, flexing his hips so she has better access. Her fingers — nimble and lean, but strong and adept — push further in, curling in over his prostate.

He gives out a quick breath. The sensation is dizzying, and she fingers him _exactly_ the way she knows he likes it.

“You like this?” she asks him, in a low voice.

It’s a stupid question. He knows she can tell by how his feet arch and by how his hands grip the bedsheets tight. She knows that he can, and he _has_ , come from just simply this. 

But she wants to hear it anyway.

So he replies.

“ _Yes._ ”

And as he says it, she withdraws.

“Well, let’s not make you come _too_ soon,” she chides.

His eyes snap open — he didn’t realize he closed them. His knees are also drawn back — he didn’t realize he repositioned himself like that either. He looks down disappointedly at her, but she only smirks at the sight of his frown.

“Desperation suits you,” she tells him then. She spreads lubricant generously over her strap — it glistens. He knows she’s going to glide right in.

She locks eyes with him, then smiles. Hungry, like he’s prey. She climbs over his body, her hands on either side of his chest. She slides her knees against the back of his thighs, then leans down to press a kiss onto his mouth. He takes her lips with great urgency, his eyes fluttering closed. Her lips still firmly over his, she reaches down to center her cock, but her hand accidentally bumps into his on her way down.

“Oops,” she giggles, looking down briefly between their bodies to reach around him.

“I wouldn’t mind if you stopped there instead,” he murmurs.

“Hm,” she says, as if _actually_ considering when they both very well knew she is _not_. “Later.” But then, she adds, “Only if you’re good.”

He holds his tongue back, not wanting to ask, but the words make it out of his mouth anyway: “How do I be good?”

Her eyes snap back to his, a devilish curl in her lips.

“Well,” she simply says, hot breath over his face, “you do exactly as I say. Starting with taking this.”

She looks back down to her cock, letting the tip tease him. She sets herself up into position, bringing her right hand back to his side. She kisses him then, and then she abruptly rocks forward, her cock sliding easily into him.

He half-gasps, half-moans. “Oh _fuck_ , Katara,” he breathes. “ _Katara_.”

He hears her smile. She repeats the motion, starting a slow and steady rhythm. He pulls his knees further back, taking her in as completely.

She drops her face into the crook of his neck. “You like that?” she murmurs, voice tickling the shell of his ear.

“ _Yes._ Yes, I do,” he replies, breathless.

She places a rushed kiss onto his cheek. “Good boy,” she says. She slows to a stop, and he think she’s going to stop to take a break, but then she suddenly thrusts forward, letting her hips slap soundly against him.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Katara...” His voice hiccups as she pulls back and surges forward again, using her bodyweight to thrust into him.

“Tell me you want it,” she purrs.

“I want it,” he says between breaths. “ _Please_. I want you so bad.”

“And how do you want it?”

He knows what she wants to hear. And so he obliges her.

“Harder,” he replies. “Faster.”

As if spurred by his words, she pumps more vicariously into him. “There,” she asserts, almost snarling, between thrusts. “How do you like that?”

He can’t really form the words now, but he answers with deep grunts, breathing through pursed lips and clenched teeth. He can feel himself gathering at the base of his cock — stiff and slapping against his stomach every time Katara moves into him.

“K-Katara—" he blurts, gritting. “I’m gonna come.”

“Oh, are you now?”

“Y-Yeah,” he gasps.

“Well _don’t_ ,” she says.

His eyes snap open. “No?” he asks, feeling sweat drip down his forehead. And spirits, does he sound so desperate when he hears himself out loud.

She shakes her head, giving him a dark smile. “Not until I tell you to.”

He throws his head back to the mattress, with a loud groan — whether because he’s so disappointed to not release or because he’s _so turned on_. Whatever it is, it makes it _that_ much harder to not come right then and there.

“Fuck, Katara!” is what he says instead — helpless and at her mercy.

“What did you say?”

“Mmm, _fuck_ ,” he repeats, in a small voice.

“Fuck _you_ , that’s right,” she coos, then thrusts her hips deep into him.

“Fuck,” he moans softly, deferent. “Fuck me.”

“Exactly,” Katara says, repositioning herself. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

She leans back then, propping herself up with her hands behind her and then restarts her rhythm. Her new angle hits him at a different angle, and he can’t tell if he likes this more or not — but he certainly knows this does _not_ help his situation at all.

“Please... please, Katara,” he begs, under his breath, almost like a prayer. And then in even more quiet and strained voice. “ _Please let me come._ ”

He can hear her smile. “Hm? What was that?” she teases.

“Please let me...” _Fuck_ , he can barely finish the damn sentence. “I want to come. Please.”

“Aww, you want to come?” she coos.

He nods his head, holding his breath.

“Not yet.”

He’s starting to ache from how far his back is arched. His fingers are cramping from clutching the bedsheets for so long. And _spirits_ , he wants to _fucking come so fucking bad._

“Katara, please...”

“Aren’t firebenders supposed to good at restraint?”

He actually whimpers, biting his lip back to resist his imminent release.

Then Katara makes it _even harder_. She takes his cock and then starts to stroke it. She pumps it — harder, faster — her grip firm around him.

“Spirits, _Katara_ ,” Zuko moans. She’s pushing him to his absolute limits. “ _Katara..._ ”

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind. Wildfire burns inside him. He squeezes his eyes shut even harder.

Right. Restraint. Control. Focus. _Concentrate_ — but it’s hard to do that when every cell in his body is telling him to just _come_.

“Katara... _please_ ,” he whines. “I can’t...”

“Not until I tell you to,” she says, her voice contrastingly calm.

And as if she wants to torture him more — he knows she does — she holds him down by his cock, bucking into him one, two, three times. He resorts to being quiet, biting down hard on his lip he _has_ to be bleeding. He is _literally_ about to combust, and honestly if he’s the first firebender to self-combust from sex, so fucking be it, he’s a mess, he’s a wreck, he’s going to be _so sore_ tomorrow —

Then suddenly, her voice — like an angel. “Are you ready?”

He nearly spills over at simply hearing the words.

“Yes, _yes!_ ” he moans, feeling drool fall out of his mouth. “Please!”

He dares to open his eyes, and she meets his eyes brightly, her hair messy and mussed, strands of small baby hairs stuck in thin ribbons over her sweaty forehead. She pulls out of him then, leans forward to stroke him in quick bursts — just the way she knows he needs it before he comes.

“C-Can I?”

She shakes her head, clicks her tongue. “Grammar, Zuko.”

He nearly explodes. “ _May I_ ,” he spurts out, correcting.

She smiles then. “Yes,” she says — _finally_. “Yes, you may.”

He comes before she finishes the sentence, his orgasm washing over his body. Stronger than any tidal wave he’s ever experienced. His vision whites out, and when he comes back to his senses, he sees Katara — looking back at him with a raised eyebrow.

Oh. Spirits. He’s completely come _all over_ her. There are several trails of cum over her breasts, a few stray drops that have somehow made it to her cheek.

If he isn’t already blushing hard, he’s certainly flushing red right now.

But fuck, it looks _so hot_.

“Oh. Spirits,” he says, sitting up and apologizing. “I’m so sorry.”

She laughs, pushing him back down to the mattress. “What are you sorry about? I’m glad you really enjoyed it — you really shoot your shot there.” She takes the back of her finger, wiping some cum off her cheek. She looks at it briefly, then raises it to her lips and sucking it clean off her finger.

Seeing this, he nearly comes all over again — if not already for the fact that she’s already drawn all the cum out of him.

She looks down at this body then, and her eyes suddenly widen. She bursts into laughter, pointing down at him. “Oh, _La_ , but you should look at _yourself_!”

He follows her finger, and well, there it is.

He’s spilled all over himself too.

 _Very_ embarrassed, he joins her laughter. “Well, I guess we have no choice but to do this again. The sex was just that good.”

She giggles, then climbs onto him, kissing him deep on the lips. She breathes him in, and then plops to the side, curling up next to him. “Glad you enjoyed it,” she says, bopping his nose with her fingertip.

He smiles, pulling her in close. “I did.”

“Hm...” she says, snuggling into his chest and closing her eyes.

He kisses her forehead. “Do you need me to take care of you?” he offers.

She looks up at him with eager eyes.

“Hm,” she replies, as if actually debating this when they both well know what her answer is going to be —

_“Yes.”_

And what else can he do except as she commands?

**Author's Note:**

> whoops, i accidentally left room for a possible part two. oh no, what a tragedy.
> 
> yell at me on [tumblr](https://ahumanintraining.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/napsbeforesleep)


End file.
